


Family

by ShadowoftheLamp



Series: AIP Irken AU [1]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Both Irken AU, Implied Mpreg, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29761572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowoftheLamp/pseuds/ShadowoftheLamp
Summary: The eggs hatch, and time marches onward to the great unknown.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Series: AIP Irken AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2121783
Comments: 1
Kudos: 38





	Family

**Author's Note:**

> Initially posted on tumblr in late 2019 as a contest prize for 64bit-trash. I was reluctant to put this on ao3 because I thought I was going to make Irken AU a full-fledged fic, buuuut pretty sure I'm not gonna do that anymore, so might as well throw it over here too.

Zim was watching the eggs. Of course he was, he’d been watching the eggs since laying them. They had created an incubator together- or rather, Dib had created most of it, since Zim had only been able to stand for about twenty minutes at a time when it was being put together two weeks ago. The eggs were settled inside and had begun to move four days ago, tiny wriggles of life inside the shells that were _just_ translucent enough under the light to show the bodies within.

It was too blurry to determine any details besides the fact that the one that had come out second was a bit smaller than the others. Zim could tell it apart because it had three pink spots on it. The third egg had two, and the other two didn’t have any. So far they’d been telling them apart by numbers- Dib didn’t want to commit to any names until they all hatched safely, and Zim had begrudgingly agreed.

He yawned, scratching at his stomach. It was strange- four months was a blink of an eye to a hundred years, but so much had changed that it felt like he’d lived an entire life since the day he’d started feeling sick and the control brains had turned his existence inside out. His Pak had mostly healed the marks and after-effects of birth, but it was still strange to feel himself back to a normal weight even a week and a half on.

A light began to flash just as he started to stand up, and he pinned his face to the glass when he saw just which one it was. He jabbed the intercom button on the wall with one of his Pak legs. “Dib!”

There was a crackle of static. “What?”

“The eggs!”

“Is something wr-”

“They’re hatching!”

Dib dropped something heavy- Zim could tell because he let out a swear before the intercom dropped the connection. A moment later, the lab’s door slid open with Dib bundling his robe up in his fists in order to run faster. He crossed the floor in seconds, staring into the incubator. “Did any get out yet?”

“Four is starting,” Zim said, a grin spreading across his face. “Last out and first hatched, they’re a smart one.”

“Would that make them oldest or youngest?”

“Oldest,” Zim decided as he watched the hairline crack spread over the shell. The tiny irken inside was making their way out, and it made his spooch flutter like he’d swallowed live grease, but in a good way. He reached for the button to open the chamber, but Dib snatched his wrist, pulling it away.

“No, we don’t want to mess it up. What if it hurts them? As soon as they open the egg, we can take it out.”

Zim narrowed his eyes at Dib and opened his mouth to protest when there was a pop that made both of them whirl around. The egg had completely cracked down the middle, and inside was a tiny smeet with their eyes still squeezed shut. Dib didn’t stop Zim when he jabbed the release button this time, and he carefully lifted the smeet out of the remains of the shell. They were sticky, and Zim looked around for something to wipe them off.

Dib handed over a towel that he’d hung on the wall for when he was working with oily equipment- luckily, it was still clean- and Zim started patting at the goo over the minty green skin. When they were mostly dry, Zim sat down. Or, more accurately, he collapsed to his knees, staring at the little smeet as they yawned with new eyes slowly blinking open.

They were vivid blue, and Dib let out a little squeak. “They’re- they’re just like mine.”

Zim couldn’t help but feel a little jolt of jealousy, but when the antennae perked up it immediately disappeared- they matched his much closer than Dib’s. A good mix then. Another light lit up on the incubator, and Dib knelt next to him, holding his hands out. Zim set the smeet in them and stood back up.

Two of the smeets were hatching at the same time, Three and One. Zim bounced on his heels, the fabric of the uniform Dib had made brushing the front of his legs as he did.

“This one’s a girl,” Dib called, but Zim barely cared, focused on the eggs that were cracking like faultlines. One emerged first, with antennae that looked like handlebars on the end already perked up. They were kind of chubby.

“So you’re the one who made me so big,” Zim said, lifting them up and starting to brush over them with the towel. They squirmed, letting out a little cry, and the bubbling grease-feeling intensified, with a bagful of sugar mixed in for good measure.

He already knew he would do anything for the smeets, but seeing even the larger one so _tiny_ in his hands… it ran warmth through him like liquid sunshine. He passed that one to Dib too, who was grooming the ends of the oldest’s antennae that had been soaked in egg-slime. 

The next one already had their eyes open. He lifted them out carefully, seeing the magenta practically sparkle in the lab’s fluorescent lights. With a jolt, he realized that one antenna was shorter than the other. 

“This is a boy,” Dib said. “I think. Man, it’s hard to tell. We left gender blank on the Paks, right? I’d rather not-”

“Look,” Zim said, holding the sticky little one out to Dib.

“Oh, they have your- ! Oh.” Dib tilted his head. “Well, one of your antennae doesn’t work entirely and you’re fine, right? They’ll be okay.”

Zim turned them around, and they reached for his thumb with a smile, grip already tight. Zim could hear Dib rummaging around for the Paks, but his gaze was riveted on the smeet in his hands.

He’d _made_ them. He’d made them, and they weren’t perfect, but their eyes mirrored his and the smile on their doll-sized face equaled the grin on his own.

He loved them. Love was new and confusing and too fast and not fast enough all at once, something irkens hadn’t dreamed of in millennia, but he knew for certain he could feel it because of how Dib’s smile made him feel, and this was deep down the same.

Dib nudged his side, holding out the last one. They were clearly the runt- the other smeets were tiny, but the final one was about two thirds the size of their siblings. Not that it mattered- Zim had come out somewhat small himself, and right now he felt like the luckiest irken in the galaxy.

“They’re all healthy. This one will just probably be short, their breathing is still normal.” Dib walked over to the second blanket he’d laid out on the floor where the other two smeets had been laid. They crawled over each other, tugging at antennae with tiny tongues sticking out of their mouths. Dib set down the small one and took the one with the short antennae from Zim, carefully lining up the chip-sized Pak with their back before carefully plugging it in. 

Electricity arched through them, dancing through their eyes and making their chest glow for just a moment. Their antennae perked up when the glow faded on the Pak’s ports, and their smile widened as they looked up at Dib.

“Papa!” The voice was high enough Zim felt confident calling it a girl.

“Hello, little one,” Dib murmured, rubbing the top of her head between her antennae. She let out a little happy chirp, before Zim held out his arms, palms up.

“Let me hold ‘em, I wanna-” 

“Alright, I’ll plug in the others.” Dib nodded at him, carefully depositing the smeet in his hands. She looked up at him, blinking.

“Papa… two?”

“I am Zim. And I’m the one that had you, so _I_ get to be papa one,” Zim said, carefully cupping his hands so she could lean back on his fingers. He lifted her up to his face, and she leaned against his cheek, nuzzling her own against it.

“Papa one, then!”

There was a little chorus of smeet voices as Dib plugged the other three Paks in. Zim looked over to see two of them hugging Dib’s boot, and the blue-eyed one in Dib’s hands was examining her own foot with awe. 

He gave the girl in his hands another little nuzzle, and she let out a tinkly laugh, before following the noise to see her siblings.

“Who’re they?” She asked, quirking her head to the side. 

Zim dug deep into his Pak’s dictionary for the word, still foreign even though the feeling was growing familiar.

“Family.”


End file.
